Seymour's Story Prologue
by daz6
Summary: The story of how Seymour Guado became bent on Spira's destruction.


Authors note: This is my first attempt at fanfic. And fictional writing in general. Seymour is a tragic character really. I really wanted to delve into his motivation and not exonerate him but understand.  
  
Disclaimer: All the major characters, of course, belong to Square.  
  
Seymour Guado glowered at the hard, blue, spherical object in front of him. Then with slow deliberation he scooped it up in his hands and flung it with all the force he could muster at his ornate gold-framed mirror. In a flash, a satisfying smash followed. He allowed himself a small smirk of self satisfaction and then, seeing the tears welling in his eyes reflected back at him in a shard of shattered glass, he flinched and curled up on his bed and began to violently shake. The tears finally made their escape. ......  
  
Nobody else in Jyscal Guado's manor heard Seymour's protest. The servant's were in self-imposed exile in there designated quarters. What was currently transpiring had, of course, been spoken of in whispers. But now it was not something to be gossiped over or endlessly debated. Now it was real. Jyscal and his wife were deep in conversation in the study, two doors but a million miles from Seymour. "But my dear, I've been over this a thousand times" - and to Jyscal it really did seem like he had. Yes, he was the leader of the Guado people. No, that didn't give him absolute power. The council of elders still exercised considerable power and the demands of realpolitic, especially now, constricted his power much more than he would like.  
  
Power politics in Guadosalam boiled down to the division of civic society into two factions. On one had there were the followers of Yevon. Headed by Jyscal himself, this faction's star was currently waning. Guadosalam had recently been ravaged by incessant attacks from fiends migrating from the Mi'ihen highroad to who knows where. Al Bhed raiding parties crawled along the Djose coast. Occasionally they were bold enough to launch a sally against Guadosalam. Though heavy losses were never sustained gradually Guadosalam's defences were being eroded. Even the blitz team had been forced to take up arms.  
  
Pleas for assistance from Bevelle had fallen on deaf ears. Bevelle's silence had lent the anti-Yevon faction considerable strength. It was hard to tell grieving parents to believe in Yevon when his earthly representative did not seem to care a jot. Even Jyscal found it hard to justify or explain Bevelle's stance. In Yevon he believed absolutely. He had his doubts about Bevelle.  
  
As the person that had introduced Yevon's teaching to Jyscal, Sapphire was spat at in the streets. Seymour was a pariah. The elders did nothing to stop this. Some openly incited it. Maybe, Jyscal mused, the banishment was a perverse kindness in this context. ...  
  
"and what will become of Seymour's schooling"  
  
Sapphires maternal fretting interrupted Jyscal's train of thought. Jyscal shrugged his shoulders. No consideration had been given to the fate of the two individuals concerned. Least of all there schooling. He had personally arranged for asylum for his spouse and sibling in Bevelle. It was the least they could do thought Jyscal in a flash of bitterness.  
  
Of course, he had tortured himself a thousand times over in his head. How ridiculous that he should be so powerful yet so powerless when it mattered. But, sitting here, slumped in his grand wooden chair, his heart was deadened to all emotion. It had to be to deal with the enormity of what had happened. And he now had lengthy experience of killing his emotion as required. He coldly interrupted Sapphire:  
  
"Go to your son and inform him of the arrangements"......  
  
A gentle rap-a-tap-tap on his huge door drew Seymour bolt upright. He had long since grown accustomed to masking his emotions in public. Even in front of his parents. All bullied and isolated children learn eventually that masking emotion is a good way of depriving ones tormentors of their chief reason for persecution. Their glee over the visible hurt they inflict. Seymour wondered ideally who it was. He didn't care if it was either of his parents. He wanted them to see what they had done. They had smashed the mirror. Not him. If it was a servant he could blame them for the mirror.  
  
He rose silently and drew the door aside to reveal the rather weedy figure of Pah Guado. Rather than speak Seymour retreated into his room, by implication inviting Pah in. Seymour turned his back slightly to Pah lest the latter should see his tear ravaged face.  
  
"Seymour" inquired a squeaky voice.  
  
"Yes" came the composed but quivering reply.  
  
"Are you ok?"  
  
"Im fine"  
  
Pah was one of Seymour's few friends. At first sight they were an odd pairing. Pah was weedy and wore clothes that were frayed at the edges. His whole being quivered outwardly and screamed vulnerability. Seymour was smart and projected an image of inner steeliness that belied his young age. But both him and Pah were outcasts. Pah because of his family's lowly status. Seymour because of his breeding. Both were too young to understand fully why they got second glances or why they were never in the in crowd. The common experience of exclusion drew them together.  
  
"Everybody says you are going away"  
  
" Yes, just for a while". Seymour started at himself. The banishment would not be permanent. Father would find some way to overcome it. Where had this hope sprung from?  
  
"Errrr..." Pah shuffled his feet. " could I borrow your blitzball then".  
  
A sarcastic smile spread across Seymour's lips. Pah's family were too poor too afford to do anything other than survive. There son was a keen blitzer. He hero-worshipped the Glories and dreamed of playing for them one day. But Pah did not own his own ball. Seymour had a ball but absolutely no love for the game. Pah was always asking to borrow the ball. And Seymour always let him cause he had no need of it and part of him glowed at being able to help a friend.  
  
"Of course". Seymour finally turned round to fully face Pah and beamed at him with genuine affection.  
  
"Well....have a nice trip". Pah was examining his feet intently.  
  
"Thank you". And with that Pah fled.  
  
He almost bumped straight into a pale and obviously fraught Sapphire. Rather than saying anything he blushed intensely and fled down the long corridor and out of the grand entrance to Jyscal's Manor.  
  
Upon entering Seymour's room Sapphire barely glanced at the wrecked mirror. She was too tierd to take in great detail and what did it matter anyway. Spending time in Jyscal's company had had its effect. Her heart was stone cold too. She offered Seymour no affection. She merely outlined what was to happen in a matter of fact manner:  
  
" We leave in the early hours of the morning. Our destination is Bevelle. When we get there this letter of introduction will ensure we are provided for."  
  
The last detail was something Seymour didn't need to know. But she added it anyway.  
  
"Get some sleep.we awake in a few hours to begin packing"  
  
Had Seymour not been in something approaching shock himself he may have found his mother's approach a cause for even greater alarm. As it was he accepted the frigid kiss on the cheek and prepared for bed. It all seemed so strangely unreal. Like he was watching this happen to somebody else. His eyes closed as his head hit the pillow. ........ 


End file.
